Rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated
by Kelly Greyer
Summary: When Samantha left to live with her birth mother, she expected to be happy, not as miserable as she made Brooke when she left. Now she feels like she's in another foster home and doesn't know how long she will survive. Can Brooke save her...again?
1. You, me, and the bottle makes 3 tonight

AuthorsNote: So the first order of business is to be said that this is my first OTH fic. I wrote it from the POV of basically Sam and Brooke because I ADORED their relationship in the show, as I did with Brooke and Peyton.  
>Now usually I write Xmen fics with my OC of Samantha but please let it be known that I did NOT create my Samantha based off of this one, nor was she even inspired by her. I created my Samantha and her relationship with Jean a LONG WHILE before season 6 of OTH even came out if you check my original archives elsewhere you'd see that. In fact, when the season first came out, I jokingly (sort of) would accuse the OTH for ripping me off..I don't really...agree with that..(again..sort of).<p>

But any who, I just find it really easy to hear Sam and Brooke because they are so much like my other fandom. So blah.

This is my first OTH fix again, just a teaser to kind of test the waters in this fandom. Hopefully you guys will be kinder to me in the form of reviews than my other verse. And without further ado, I give you...

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><p>"Samantha!"<p>

Samantha's eyes snapped open at the sound of her name being called. The way that it slurred off of the tongue of its beholder told her that a storm was brewing in her immediate vicinity, closing in on her quickly. She chose not to answer, closing her eyes once more as she lay on her back on top of her bed sheets, her head sunken into the slightly flat pillow behind her brunette hair.

Maybe if she didn't answer, maybe if she stayed put and pretended that she was somewhere else, some place where there was nothing wrong, it would go away. Her drunken pursuer would leave her alone.

"SAMANTHA!"

The yell for her was louder and once again Samantha opened her eyes letting a silent tear slip out the corner of left eye and down her face into her pillow. She cried in anticipation of the pain that she knew would fill her body and her mind once she was discovered and pulled from her make believe sanctuary just as she always was.

Samantha saw no point in moving, no point in attempting to see what it was that her birth mother wanted from her because what ever it was, she would not be able to give it to her. It would not stop Rebecca from laying into her for another time, painting her sides red and blue and injecting pain into her entire body. Using either her own hands, or what-ever object she could grasp onto with drunk unsteady fingers and swing at her. And try as she might to fight her off and escape, she just could not resist the strength that Rebecca's alcoholic drink of the day gave to her. Samantha heard a loud bump on the door of her small bedroom and still she did not move. Besides, where else could she go? Who would deal with this hopeless foster kid. This burden of another woman? This useless incompetent teenager?

Slowly the door knob turned and it was, with more force than necessary, pushed open. It made contact with the wall behind it, leaving a dent in the wall.

"Did you hear me calling you brat?" Rebecca leaned on the door that was still pressed against the wall behind it, using the doorknob to steady herself. Samantha sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, staring at her feet firmly planted on the carpet floor. "Answer me when I'm talking to you!" Rebecca reached out and smacked Samantha on the side of the head, more to get her attention than to hurt her.

"Yes…" Samantha's voice was small as she avoided the eyes of her mother, but even if she didn't, Rebecca's eyes wouldn't even be able to focus on hers.

"So you ignoring me now?" Rebecca stood up straight…or as straight as she could manage, and started to stalk around the room. She ran her finger along the wall, probably looking for an object to grab and throw at her teenage daughter.

"You're drunk." Rebecca laughed at that as she stopped and turned towards Samantha who still stared at the spot that she had just vacated, her hand resting on a book on top of a desk in the room.

"Well yeah, captain fucking obvious." Rebecca shook her head with her eyes closed, a drunk grin plastered on her face. "Because I have to deal," Rebecca paused and put her other hand out, taking a moment to steady herself. "With a little bitch…like you!" She picked up the book and flung it with her 'drunken strength' at Samantha who was not expecting it as it connected with her cheek and fell in her lap. Samantha pushed the book away from her and quickly got to her feet, the tears flowing and connecting with the fingertips of her left hand as she held her hurt cheek.

"Please!" Samantha pleaded as she slowly backed out of the room and into the hall way, her back pressed against the wall as Rebecca began to approach her.

"It never had to be like this Samantha. I wanted you back, the little girl I imagined…" Rebecca grabbed Samantha's face with her right hand, a tight grip on her jaw as she pressed her head harder to the wall. "Not who _they_ turned you into. Do you think you're better than me? Better than this? Because you're not!" Rebecca used her free hand to grab a hand of Samantha's hair and throw her to the ground. Samantha attempted to crawl away from her tormentor. "This is your life Samantha! This will always be your life! Those fucking people will not come save you, you don't mean anything to them!" Out of blind rage, Rebecca drove her foot into Samantha's side who rolled over with a violent scream of pain. Clutching at her ribs on the floor Samantha began to shake with tears. Even more frightening than her current ordeal, was the thought of how many times this would happen. How many times would she be left with bruises and scars all over her body that she would have to make up elaborate stories to tell people of why she looked the way she did. "God, get up!"

Rebecca moved past Samantha trembling on the floor holding herself, and into the kitchen where she had left a bottle of Grey Goose vodka. It was a new bottle that she had brought only yesterday, and now, at 10 o'clock in the morning the next day, it was only a small amount of the colorless liquid in the bottle.

Samantha watched from her position on the floor, her vision blurred with tears and wondered what her birth mother would be like if she did not constantly keep a bottle in her hand. After leaving Brooke and coming to stay with Rebecca, things had stayed light. She rarely ever saw a bottle accompanying her mother and when Rebecca looked at her, it was not with hate and disgust, and impatience in her eyes. It was compassion, understanding, guilt, and love. Love, that was something that she rarely felt anymore. There had been only two people who made her feel truly loved; her best friend (who in a different way also made her alcoholic mother happy) Jack Daniels, and Brooke Davis. Samantha missed Brooke, but something told her that her mother was right, that she wasn't really one of them and couldn't stay in that pretend world forever.

She was a Walker, not a Davis.

"GET UP!" Her mother screamed bloody murder at her and quickly drank down the last of the liquid in the bottle, throwing her head all the way back, letting her short brown hair fall behind her and the bottom of the bottle see the ceiling. Pulling the empty bottle away from her lips, she wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve and hurled the glass bottle at Samantha who was still on the floor. Seeing the projectile coming for her, Samantha turned over out of its trajectory and covered her face from the broken glass that would erupt towards her when it smashed against the old hard wood floor. Hearing Rebecca's footsteps approach her again, Samantha quickly rose to her feet.

"Please just…leave me alone!" Samantha forced out between sobs.

"SHUT UP!" Rebecca swung at Samantha's face with an open hand, slicing threw the air with powerful force behind it, Rebecca connected with her target who continued to move backwards, tripping over a chair behind her. Samantha once again made contact with the floor and her mother gave her another vicious kick. "Where are they now? WHERE!" Rebecca reached for the broom that rested against the wall near the kitchen entrance and held it in her right hand as Samantha balled up in anticipation of what was to come. "Yeah, yeah you scream for her now." Her mother nodded at her work as she snarled at her daughter on the floor, broom in hand, alcohol on her breath, and hate in her voice. She lowered her voice barely above a whisper.

"Brooke." Samantha said quietly through gritted teeth where only she could hear, as if pretending that Brooke was there, and that she would protect her…make the pain go away. Pretending that maybe, the same way she had done before, Brooke would come running through the front door knowing that she was in trouble and save her from her nightmare.

"Scream for me!" Her mother yelled again as she raised the broom above her head and brought it down with all of her weight into it, smashing it into her daughters body, Samantha could only manage one scream as the broom connected with her body and shot pain throughout her, the first of many blows.

"BROOKE!"

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><p>AuthorsNote: So there you have it. My first chapter of hopefully a long stint in your fandom. Thank you for having me. Please review.<p> 


	2. I'll be just fine pretending I am

AuthorsNote: Hey everyone! I know I took forever getting this up but it's because I really wasn't planning on continuing this. Like when I first published this it was solely with intent to see what you all in this fandom thought of my writing and if you'd review, and I had no plan or idea of where I wanted to take it. And when a huge number of you did I felt as though I had no choice but to keep going. So I thought of some possible places to go to and started writing.  
>And for the wait, the next chapter (if everyone that reviewed before reviews again) I'll post it by...Friday or Saturday! But enough of my talking, please enjoy.<p>

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><p>"Huh…Oh!" Brooke snapped back to reality at the sound of her name being called and realized that her drink she was pouring, was overflowing. She laughed at herself and the mess that she had created.<p>

"Got a lot on your mind maybe?" Haley handed Brooke a towel to wipe the red wine off of the marble counter as she took a small sip from her own glass with an amused smile on her face.

"I don't know…maybe." Brooke began to wipe at the spill, once again, a thoughtful look spread across her face but she shook it away and met the eyes of one of her best friends. "But it doesn't matter, because tonight I'm with my favorite girls….and Alex." Brooke threw her arm over Peyton's shoulder as Alex, who sat next to Millicent, shrugged with a glass in her hand.

"Well its a step up from 'that whore of an actress' so eh…I'll drink to that." Alex raised her glass in the air and the then took a drink of her wine. Milli turned and smiled at her.

The night went on and the girls continued to drink. Laughing, happy, light hearted they drank and talked, something that they rarely ever got a chance to do these days. With what Brooke had been going through lately, everyone felt like she needed this, like she needed them, and Peyton of all people felt as though she hadn't been there for her.

Brooke was her best friend, even more than that, she was her sister. The most consistent thing in her life ever and she needed that stability. Peyton loved the fact that she found that one person who would always be there for her. And sure, Peyton loved Lucas with every fiber in her being but in a world like the one that they lived in, things happened. While she believed she had her happy ending, she still didn't believe in fairytales, and only in a fairytale would she rule out any possibility, even the slightest of possibilities that nagged at the back of the mind of the girl who left behind "people always leave", that someday just maybe Lucas wouldn't be there. That through a series of unfortunate circumstances, their marriage would end, and after all Tree Hill had a strong history of unfortunate circumstances.

But that was different with Brooke, they had been together practically forever, and even at the times in the past when they would have sworn up and down that they hated each other, it was always her, and it always would be. They were each other's saviors, saving each other in ways that the boys they fell in love with could never grasp or do for them. It was a friendship, a love that they both cherished dearly and would never let go.

"P. Sawyer you're such a bitch sometimes!" Brooke exclaimed as she stood up and placed her glass on the table in front of them and began to walk away from the couch. Peyton laughed as Brooke attempted to move her sluggish legs over a passed out Alex (who had escalated from wine a long time ago) but tripped and fell on her face.

"And you B. Davis, are drunk." Peyton stood and made her way over to her best friend struggling on the floor.

"Ooo, make that two…" Millicent stopped and stared at Alex and then continued. "Three of us, I am not driving anywhere tonight." She pushed Alex over to make room for herself on the couch and stretched her legs.

"I can take you home if you want." Haley stood and was perfectly fine, she had had only one glass of wine.

"Oh no, Brooke's couch is comfortable enough for me. Besides, I have to be here when she wakes up tomorrow to protect this one." Milli, eyes closed, motioned over to Alex.

"You know she does have a vacant guest bedroom now that Samantha is…" Haley's voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying, looking over at Brooke who seemed to instantly become sober and overwhelmed with the thoughts that had plagued her mind earlier. "I-I'm sorry Brooke, I didn't mean to…"

Brooke managed a fake smile, the same smile she always gave when she was pretending that something wasn't bothering her. "No, it's fine." Brooke rose to her feet, still a bit wobbly and gave a small laugh at the thought of Samantha. "I'm glad you girls came tonight." Brooke squeezed Peyton's arm in a reassuring way. "I had fun." Pursing her lips together, Brooke smiled, blinking away tears she waved at the group (or the conscious part) and headed back to her room.

"Oh I'm so stupid." Haley scolded herself as she pouted with her hands on her neck.

"Don't worry about it Hales, she's just been thinking about her a lot lately." Peyton placed a hand on Haley's shoulder in attempt to comfort her She didn't want Haley to be hard on herself, Brooke needed to talk about the situation anyway and this provided a good opportunity to do so. "I'm gonna go talk to her." Haley nodded.

"Okay, um.." Haley put her hands on her head and sighed. "I guess I should go then." Before making her way to the door, Haley hugged, Peyton and looked at the scene around her, laughing before she made her exit.

Peyton made her way to the back of the house, heading to Brooke's room. She missed staying there, every night it would be the two of them together as if they were still teenagers without a care in the world. Peyton laughed at the thought of who they use to be and the things that they have been through.

From days where they never thought they would make it past high-school graduation, to gun shot wounds and the loss of friends, from vicious attacks to marriages, to now. Living their dreams, Red Bedroom Records and Clothes over Bros, was all they had ever dreamed about as children. And now as women, here they were; living it out together.

"Brooke?" Peyton pushed open Brooke's bedroom door only to find her not there, she turned and looked down the hall way, noticing that the light was on in the guest bedroom, Samantha's old room. Peyton walked to the room leaning on the arch of the open door and knocked, only to make Brooke aware of her presence.

"This was her first room." Brooke said after a moment. She was laying on her side on the full-sized bed, staring at the wall in front of her as she let the memories that she had created with the teenager in such a short period of time invade her mind.

"And I know it meant a lot to her." Peyton slid her hands in her jean pockets as she spoke, tilting her head to the side as she observed her friend.

"She let me give her her first room Peyton….why did she leave me?" The question was more of a random thought than something she actually wanted Peyton to answer, with a small sniffle Peyton knew she was crying.

"Oh sweetie don't cry." Peyton climbed onto the bed with Brooke and brought her into a hug that she had no idea how much she needed right now.

"I miss her so much Peyton."

"I know you do Brooke, we all miss her. Have you at least talked to her since then?" Brooke shook her head into Peyton's chest, still enveloped in her hug. "Well why not? Its been almost a year."

"I just, I didn't want her holding on to this, I wanted her to go and be happy with her - her real mom. She can't do that if every day her old life comes knocking on the door." Brooke protested the idea of getting in contact with her. "I just want her to be happy…"

"Well Brooke she loves you, you know that. And if you don't reach out to her, that is probably the only reason she hasn't reached out to you. But if it makes you feel any better, I'm sure she's happy. Probably fast asleep under her covers, which is probably what your drunk ass should be doing." The two women laughed.

"I hope you're right."

"Have you ever known me to be wrong?"

"Yes Peyton, yes…majority of the time actually." Brooke laughed as she finally let go of her best friend and moved over to the other side of the bed giving Peyton more space.

"Well, this time I'm right." Peyton smiled, rolling her eyes playfully at Brooke.

"Will you stay here, tonight? I mean everyone else already is." Peyton laughed again.

"Of course." Reaching up Peyton flicked the light switch right by the door off and they both moved under the soft black blanket that laid atop the bed.

"Goodnight P. Sawyer."

"Goodnight B. Davis."

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><p>AuthorsNote: The next chapter gets back into Samantha. Its just that if you know anything about me, I like to build up story lines and characters so I thought I needed this chapter. But yeah, hope you guys liked the chapter. Maybe it was a bit shorter but like I said before the next chapter is going to come quick. So please review and share your thoughts with me.<p> 


	3. Red Sam

A/N Not much to say, it took a while to post because you guys weren't reminding me with your awesome reviews! But like I said not much to say, here you are.

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><p>Samantha slowly opened her eyes and the images of the previous day flooded back into her mind.<p>

Looking around she noticed that she was still laying on the floor, but not in the living room where she remembered passing out. At some point she must have made an attempt to get back into her room but only made it half way into the door. She blinked her eyes, trying to get her vision to focus and even that was painful.

Samantha attempted to sit up, using the wall as support, resting her sore back against its hard cold frame. Her back was where she had taken most of the blows, wounds on her back were the most uncomfortable and painful, but they were the easiest to hide. Letting out a small groan Samantha closed her eyes again, she didn't want to make any noise and let her mother know that she was awake, she had had seen enough of her to last about a week. Samantha took another breath and turned her head, eyes still closed, in the direction of the body length mirror that was on the far wall in her room, she knew what she would see would scare her and she had to prepare herself for the way she looked.

Slowly opening her eyes, Samantha's breath was immediately taken away.

Her left eye was black but not completely closed.

There was a bruise on her left cheek with a cut in the middle of it; she remembered the book that was thrown at her face.

There were a few small cuts in her right cheek and she remembered rolling onto of the broken vodka bottle.

Her nose had leaked blood all down her chin and onto her large black shirt; she saw the end of the broom coming directly for her face.

And looking at the palms of her hands they were extremely sore and red and a bit cut up as well; she remembered attempting to block some of the worst hits.

"Hey kid." Samantha jumped and quickly faced the entrance to her room, her heart pounding nearly out of her chest as she didn't think she would survive a round two. "DAMN!" The voice that belonged to her mother's boyfriend exclaimed as he got a look at her busted up face and the dried blood on her clothes. Sometimes he watched this happen to her, sometimes he gave her his own bruises, sometimes he would just torment her when he came over.

As if he knew her enough to hate her, but she supposed that people like them flocked together, and these things were natural.

"Word of advice, your mother is still on a warpath, my god she's a Tiger!" He left the room laughing and Samantha looked at herself again in the mirror, her heartbeat peaking once more as she imagined her reflection taking a life of its own, standing up looking at her. Looking down on her, disappointed, disgusted.

"Samantha." Samantha turned once more towards her door, her mother was standing there. She looked calm, normal, sober for the time being. Samantha wanted to bolt directly past her and out of the door, but fear had overtaken her body and she sat there, tears burning past the cuts on her face. Rebecca stared at her, looking her slowly up and down, focusing on the marks on the teenage girls body. The marks, that she had caused on her own daughter from a night that she barely remembered. Rebecca looked away from Samantha suddenly and for a second, Samantha thought she might have felt guilty, sorry at what she had done.

But could her guilt erase Samantha's pain? Could an apology be all that she wanted? Could it compel her to run into her mother's arms and tell her how much she loved her and needed her, the way the conviction in Brooke's eyes once made her? Samantha shook the thought from her head, '_Brooke is gone_' she thought to herself. _'God I've got to stop thinking about that…'_

"Why don't you clean yourself up." Rebecca offered nodding, her voice was much quieter than it usually was, pressing her lips together slightly almost as if she wanted to smile but it would kill her to do so. With that she turned and left, closing the door behind her. Samantha let out a breath that she hadn't realized she was holding, her position became one less tense and she let her body relax, throwing her head back against the wall and closing her eyes.

Through the thin walls she heard footsteps moving farther away from her door and then finally the opening and closing of the front door. They both had left her there, but for this Samantha was thankful.

At least she could take comfort in the fact that no fist or feet would be attempting to break into her body and rob her of her blood. Leaving behind pain and agony, though it was something that was no longer foreign to her. Samantha pushed a hand through her dark colored hair and opened her eyes, staring at the blank wall before her, attempting to block out the hell that she currently found herself sitting chin high in.

It was grabbing her, pulling her down and trying to drown her. She couldn't scream because the water would strangle her lungs and silence her cries and she couldn't run because she was weightless. But not in the way that she wanted to be, care free and light, she was weightless and invisible like a ghost who seemed to be attracted to misery and floated in and out of people's lives.

Samantha was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of taping on her window. Shifting her eyes towards the door her heart sank when she saw the face of Jack Daniels. His pale face covered in shock as he looked into the window, her gaze locked on her eyes no, her scars. Samantha looked away from him and placed both palms to the ground and grimaced in pain, but even still she pushed herself to her feet. Samantha took a second to gather herself, leaning on the wall and any other object that she could as she made her way to the window, limping in pain, forcing her feet to walk but still avoiding Jack's eyes that were trying desperately to catch hers. She unlocked the window and let him push it up himself before slowly letting herself down on the bed, exhaling her pain.

"Sam…what happened?" Samantha didn't say anything, she merely looked towards the ceiling the same way she had done before this had all happened…again. Jack didn't really need her to answer that question anyway, he knew what happened, he _always_ knew what happened. It was the same thing that happened to him back when he was living with his brother, it was the same thing that always made Sam hesitant to be touched, it was what made her wear long sleeves in such warm water, it was the reason that she lied to so many people who somehow caught glimpses of a rather large bruise in a questionable place.

Jack wanted to say how sorry he was, or at least thought he should, but he knew better than that. Sorry didn't make anything better, his sympathy wouldn't comfort her. The same way hers wouldn't comfort him. "You can't let her keep doing this to you Sam. People want to help you….you just have to…let them.." Jack stuffed his hands in his pockets and sat on the edge of her bed. He heard her sigh; she knew he was right.

"What about…like Brooke..or any of those guys?"

"Jack no! You can't tell them, you can't tell anyone."

"Well why not? They're the ones that care about you. The closes thing to family that you've come close to Sam, what are you so afraid of?" Samantha sat up in bed and Jack looked at her, this time at her eyes and not her bruises, which was hard in and of itself.

"I just don't won't them worried about me okay, I can handle myself."

"Obviously you can't, and why is it so bad to have some worry about you? Isn't that what we've always wanted?" Jack stood up and headed for the window. He could easily walk out of the door seeing as how her mother wasn't there, but he was so use to the window it just became second nature in a way.

"Jack if you tell them I'll….I'll…hate you!" Samantha had to search for that one. Jack stopped, already half way through the window and looked at her.

"Well at least if I tell them, you might actually live to hate me."

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><p>AN: There you go, no promises on the next chapter but it shouldn't be super long. Also, all of the chapters of the story are and will be named after song titles/lyrics. These songs are what I was listening to to be inspired to write the chapters the way I did so if anyone wants a list of those songs I'll send em to you if you can't tell from the chapter title. (The same is also true of all my other stories)


	4. The Silence and The Wait

A/N: So, theres this story that I really loved. It's on this website and written by another fan, just like you and me. And this story was great, and lots of people loved it and the author wrote it and then they just forgot about it. I was dying to figure out where that story could have went, I reviewed every chapter and even PMd the author but they never updated. That feeling sucks. When you're reading a story that you liked but, the author just let it go.

I can't do anything about the story "Just Friday" but I realize that I was leaving you guys hanging and I could change that. So here is me changing that, here is the next chapter that will hopefully be the first in more updates. Consider this my apology, please read and review and Please enjoy.

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><p>Brooke stood in her store, Clothes over Bros, staring at a large white blank sketchpad atop of an easel.<p>

She felt like she had something that wanted to come out of her, some great sketch, some great design that was begging to be let out of her and put onto paper but she had no idea how to get it there. And as she stood there the process had become more and more pointless and less likely to happen.

Brooke looked around the store, there were sample designs pinned here and materials there but still nothing worth filling the store. The silence in the store was replaced for a second with the sound of her iPhone vibrating on the counter, she looked down at it to see Haley's name and picture across her screen. Sighing, she silenced the phone and turned it over. She had to get something done, and decided to cut herself off from the world until she made some sort of progress.

"Maybe I should have another teenager through a party in here." Brooke stated aloud to herself rolling her eyes, remembering the last time that the store had been bustling with energy. It was unwanted attention granted, but energy non-the-less.

She stepped away from the easel, the click of her heels filling the empty walls, and moved to a high stool behind the counter. Brooke had been feeling like she was missing something, some what of a link to connect all the parts of her life back together. She often found herself wondering if she could have found that in LA with Julian, and just how different would things be in her career and her life had she went with him. Sometimes she wished she should have went with him, Tree Hill was starting to become a place that held more reminders of the things that she lost and that was an overwhelming feeling for her.

There was much Brooke had to be thankful for, but still when she tried to conceptualize those things the list often ended with her friends, which was great, she loved them all dearly…but when does that become not enough?

She supposed it was much too late to contemplate such things.

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><p>Jack walked aimlessly through the Tree Hill streets, swiftly indeed, but without a purpose. What he wanted was to help Samantha, to find someone who would help her. He didn't want her to be ambushed or to be let down like she and him had been so many times before, but a part of him knew that these people weren't like all of the others.<p>

Jack had watched them.

Envied them.

He had seen them love Samantha, love this girl who had no blood ties to them or any relation at all. She was just Samantha Walker, a shadow on the streets of Tree Hill, a replaced spot in a foster home, a smart ass in the back of a classroom.

She had found something good for a really long time, something that could have been permanent that she chose to give up and Jack knew that she regretted that.

Every time the smell of alcohol floated from Rebecca's mouth she regretted it.

Every time she flinched in fear and pain she wished she had stayed.

And every bruise that Jack saw across her body made him wish that she had stayed too...because he understood that those wounds lasted longer then they cared to appear. That her regret pulsed through her head with every beat of her heart that pumped blood through her body….blood that Rebecca had seen, had forced out of her.

Jack stopped at a street crossing, the reddish orange hand on the light facing him signaled him to stop and he stared at it.

Stop.

Samantha wanted him to stop, she wanted him to just keep his mouth shut and pretend that he didn't see her hurting. She wanted him to just sit with her in silence whenever she could get away from Rebecca…..to just sit there and take in all the silence. Samantha wanted Jack to do exactly what he had asked her to do tons of times before.

Did this somehow make him a hypocrite?

Does this make him less of a friend?

Jack knew that when he had asked Samantha to not do anything, to not tell anyone what he was going through, what his brother had put him through, it was because he needed her not to. In those moments when they would sit together at night on a park bench, having no one to worry about where they were, he only needed Samantha to be his friend, not his savior. But somehow, in her being the friend that she was, she still managed to save him.

But this is different he convinced himself.

Or was it?

Was the broom handle the same as his brother's fist? Was his black eye the same as her broken rib? No…no it couldn't be the same. The needed different things, or… he would just like to think he knew what she needed.

But he's just a teenage boy, how could he know what Samantha needed. How could he even assume?

The reddish orange hand changed into an all white symbol of a walking person. It was okay to go now. It was okay, safe to continue… but was it really?

He stared at the light…hesitant to take another step.

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><p>Haley sat at the black Weber grand piano. Her head down, her eyes closed. Her left hand resting atop of it, her fingers lightly tapping the black frame like a metronome. Her right hand glided slowly and gracefully across the actual keys, rhythmically mixing the A major scale. Her right foot pressed against the sustain pedal, her left tapping along with her fingertips, her head bobbing slowly to the sound that was being omitted from the piano.<p>

She had lost track of time.

She wasn't sure how long she had been sitting at the piano, not playing any song or trying to make a new one, but just messing around, enjoying the sound of the music. At some point it had started raining, not pouring down hard enough for her to give any thought to it, but just enough to provide an ambient background to her unrefined melodies.

"Why Haley James Scott are you working on your next album?" Nathan smiled as he leaned on the frame of the door behind her, his arms crossed over his chest. Haley opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder at her husband.

"That's Mrs. Scott to you." Nathan put his arms up with a chuckle as he approached her and took a seat next to her on the piano bench. "But no," Haley rested her head on Nathan's shoulder as she looked back at the black and white keys before her. "Just enjoying the music."

Her mind went back to playing on the street for fun with an artist, Grace was her name and it was more than fitting. Her words were simple, hew voice beautiful, her guitar pure, and her words inspiring. Her _grace_ reminded Haley to enjoy the music.

Enjoy it for simply what it was, not what it brought, not what it could do, not where it could take her. But to just enjoy the simple nonchalant A major scale over the sound of raindrops tapping on the window.

"Well it sounds good." Nathan placed a kiss on the top of her head as he looked the piano with but was pulled out of the trance he was falling into with the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house. "I'll get that." Nathan announced as he rose to his feet and Haley pressed her hands against the keys once again.

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><p>AN: So yeah I think its a little short of a chapter but, enough to let you guys know this story isn't dead right?

Story facts: The Grace that I'm referring to is Grace Potter. She was the musician on the street in season 6 episode 7. Her and Bethony Joy Galeotti have a song together called "I want something that I want". It is also the song they play together in that episode.

Please Review and let me know what you think :)


	5. Hell Hath No Fury

AuthorsNote: Hey guys! K.G. here with another chapter. I started writing this chapter about like 4am, it is now 7:21am, I haven't slept at all and I hope you'll reward me with reviews lol. I like this chapter, I think it's kind of what you all have been asking for, or at least the beginning of it and I just REALLY really really want to know if you feel the same way. So, here you guys go.

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><p>"Um hi, can I help you?" Nathan asked the stranger who was standing drenched from the rain at his doorstep. Jack nodded. He had never really met Nathan even though he had been at his house for an impromptu English lesson.<p>

"Is Mrs. Scott here?" Nathan looked at the boy, his hair matted to his forehead and his clothes to his skin. Nathan wondered how long he had been out there because it looked like he had let the rain have at him for a while. But even still, the boy stood unaffected. He didn't seem cold and he didn't even really seem to notice that he was wet and still being assaulted by the wind and rain; he just looked desperate. Nathan nodded at the boy.

"Come in." Though Nathan didn't know him he was still just a kid, a kid who shouldn't just be standing in the rain.

As Nathan turned to get his wife, Jack found himself starring at the ground as he waited. He didn't look around the house nor did he shift his position, he simply stood looking at his feet, feeling as though he didn't belong there. He only wished that Haley would hurry, because every moment that they spent dabbling around was another moment given to Rebecca to take away from Samantha.

"Jack?" Haley immediately recognized the boy that Nathan didn't know standing drenched by their door. Her pace quickened as she got to him, knowing that he had no other reason to come there unless something was wrong. "Jack what are you doing here?"

"It's Sam…I need your help. I—I just didn't know where else to go." Haley grabbed onto Jack's shoulders as Nathan watched the two from behind her.

"Okay, it's okay just tell me what's wrong."

"There isn't any time!" Jack protested. All that he could think about was Samantha sitting on her bed in pain. Trying not to move, trying not to make a sound and give her mother any reason to try and break her again. She was safe when he was there, her mother had been gone, but for all he knew she could have returned by now…and started to rip into Samantha again. "She needs help now."

Haley only took a second to survey the desperateness that Nathan had seen in Jack's eyes before nodding. She didn't know Jack _very_ well but she knew him enough to say that he was a good kid. She knew of the things that he and Samantha had been through together and if he was coming to her house in the rain begging for her help she knew that something had to have been terribly wrong. Haley looked over her shoulder at Nathan who had an uncertain look on his face.

"Nathan I'll be back."

"No, I'll come with you." He was concerned for both Samantha and Haley.

"No you should stay with Jaime. I'll call if anything happens." Nathan sighed and gave in, wanting to go with her in case he was needed but knowing that he couldn't leave Jaime here by himself nor bring him along. Haley walked quickly to the kitchen to grab her phone and her keys before coming back to Jack to grab her coat that was hanging on a hook by the door. Pulling it and her hood on she walked up to Nathan and gave him a quick kiss.

"I promise I'll call." Jack was already heading out of the door as Haley turned around, closing the door behind her.

"What kind of trouble is she in?" Haley asked as she unlocked the doors to the silver Range Rover allowing Jack to climb into the passenger seat.

"It's Rebecca…her mother…she shouldn't have left." Jack stared out in front of him as they backed out of the driveway.

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><p>Brooke laid on her back atop of one of the empty couches in her boutique and stared blankly up at the ceiling.<p>

What was she looking for?

What was she waiting for?

This fantastic idea that was gnawing at her insides was getting further and further from appealing and real because it was starting to seem like it didn't exist. Sure she wanted it to, but she couldn't build a company or a new line off of pure want and will. There had to be something backing it up, something solid that wouldn't just get investors to come running back to her but would be the essence of what she loved about making clothes, about designing and about being passionate for something. Brooke closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead as she let her mind wonder. She had been sitting in this store, this _empty storage closet_ for hours and hadn't achieved anything. Suddenly her thought was broken with the sound of knocking on the window.

Her heart skipped a beat as she quickly sat up, but sighed relief when she saw the face of Haley…and…Jack.

Brooke moved to door and unlocked it letting the two visitors in from the rain.

Since she had been attacked in her store Brooke would sometimes get this eerie feeling that someone was watching her. That she wasn't safe. She would resort to locking the door whenever she felt uneasy and often times the memory of it all would just drive her out of the store all together.

"Brooke I've been trying to call you." Haley pulled her hood off as she stepped through the door.

"Yeah sorry, I was just – trying to be…I don't know." Brooke's voice trailed off as she looked at Jack. "But what's going on, what are you doing here?" Though she directed the question at Haley it was meant more to the presence of Jack.

"Um, he came to the house. He said that Sam was in trouble." Brooke shifted in position as her heart skipped a beat again and she addressed Jack directly.

"What kind of trouble?"

"We're going over to her house now, I just thought you should be there." Brooke nodded at Haley's answer and they all began to file out of the store.

"This is the house." Jack said as they pulled up in front of the house that he had eagerly guided them to, every moment wishing that they could just go faster. Before Haley even came to a complete stop Jack was opening the door and hopping out of the car. He didn't see Rebecca's car parked out front and knew again that she still wasn't home. "I'll get the door." Jack called to Brooke and Haley as he ran to the side of the house.

"Are you going to be okay Brooke?" Haley asked as she reached out and squeezed Brooke's shoulder. She could tell how nervous and anxious and scared she was as they stood at the front door waiting to be let her in.

"I'll know when I see her." Tears were already in Brooke's eyes as she looked over at Haley but they both turned their attention to the door as it opened to reveal Jack.

"She's there." Jack pointed to the first door in the hall and Brooke swiftly walked to it.

Her heart was pounding.

Jack hadn't said anything other than Samantha was in trouble and that they should hurry and so she didn't know what to expect. Her stomach fluttered and it seemed like she just couldn't get to that door fast enough. Tears burned at her eyes in mere anticipation of seeing Samantha again, somehow hurt and alone. Her mind skyrocketed with the worst of ideas and when she finally stepped in she went blank.

Brooke reached out and grabbed onto the doorknob with her right hand as her knees almost gave completely out beneath her. Tears spilled over her eyelashes like a great storm being released and her face twisted into an expression of anger. Samantha was sitting on the bed looking back at her, tears in her eyes as she looked away from Brooke.

"No…no…no." Brooke shook her head as she went to Samantha, sitting next to her on the bed. Brooke gently grabbed her face and brought Samantha's eyes back to her. Bruises and scars were scattered about her. Her cheek, her forehead, her hands.

She had been beaten.

Brutally beaten by someone that she trusted, someone that was suppose to protect her, someone that was suppose to love her.

Brooke pulled the teenager into her and Samantha collapsed into her embrace, hugging her fiercely.

Who would do this to a teenager?

What kind of monster could beat their teenage daughter?

Who could so easily lay a harming hand on Samantha?

Brooke felt sick to her stomach. This was Sam, _her _Samantha. She blamed herself because she should have been there to protect the girl, she shouldn't have so easily let her walk out of her door that night so many months ago. And she shouldn't have spent all that time waiting, wondering about Samantha; hoping that she had this new great life that made her happy.

She just should have been there.

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><p>"Ms. Davis?" Brooke looked up at the doctor who had called her name from the entrance to the emergency room waiting room. She stood, leaving Jack with Haley to speak with the doctor. "My name is Dr. Billingsley, I treated Samantha." The doctor smiled at her and Brooke didn't return the gesture.<p>

She simply stared coldly at him, this was hardly a time for smiles and light laughter, and all she wanted to know was how Samantha was doing.

"Samantha was obviously in really bad shape but luckily there was no internal bleeding nor any serious injuries."

Brooke scoffed at that, every hit was a serious injury.

"She did need three stitches in her lower lip, and had bruised ribs that will cause a bit of pain when taking deep breaths, but other than that the other bruises and cuts should heal over time and the pain from them should go away in a little more than a week."

But how long would it take for Samantha to heal? For the pain that she felt in her head to go away?

"But Ms. Davis the nature of her wounds seemed very…violent, if I may ask, was she attacked?" Brooke stared at the doctor.

No…no _Brooke_ was attacked.

Attacked by a masked man in the dark that she didn't even know. A stranger that came into her life, destroyed it with his fists and boots, and left.

It was the way society thought it would be.

Attacked by a _stranger._ Assaulted by a _stranger_. Making her feel uncomfortable in her own home and making her skin crawl at night. Forcing her to take precautions and prepare herself in case that stranger had decided to appear again…or any other stranger for that matter. And while she prepared for the stranger that never came, she gave Samantha up to one; one that was disguised not with a black mask but with the name of mother. And this mother destroyed her, broke her into pieces that no doctor could fix. Drove objects into her body and pushed pass skin to draw blood. Convincing her that she was not worthy of love, that she could no longer grant anyone the luxury of trust, and that she would never be safe. This mother put everything she had into hurting her.

But no, Brooke was attacked…

Samantha was betrayed.

"No." Brooke shook her head blankly.

"Well what did happen?"

"Something that will never happen again." The doctor nodded and opened his mouth to speak again but Brooke cut him off. "Can I see her now?"

"Of course." The doctor stepped aside and Brooke walked to the room that Samantha was sitting in.

Brooke slowly opened the door to see Samantha sitting up on the hospital bed pulling her shirt down over her purple and black badly bruised abdomen. Her face was a grimace of pain as she moved.

"Samantha…" Samantha looked up at the voice but then avoided Brooke's eyes as she walked in closing the door behind her. Brooke moved closer, surveying the teen who kicked her feet over the edge of the bed and gripped onto the sheets. Silence was over them and Samantha opened her mouth to try and diffuse it but Brooke beat her to it.

"How long?" Samantha sighed, a face contorting in pain again as she wrapped her hand around her stomach. "Sam…How long?" Brooke asked again as she approached the teen, her words deliberate, how voice barely above a whisper. Samantha bit her upper lip as she fought back tears.

She didn't want to answer that.

She didn't want to answer it because she knew it would just hurt Brooke more and she didn't want to think about how many times this had happened.

Besides, she wasn't even sure. Weeks often blended together these days.

"A couple months maybe?" Samantha swore she saw Brooke's heart break in her eyes.

"Sam, Sam why didn't you try to get in contact with me?" In Brooke's head that question was reversed, why hadn't _she_ gotten in contact with Samantha…

"I don't know…I couldn't…I don't know…" Samantha's voice trailed off. Brooke covered her eyes with her hand and took a deep breath in through her nose.

"Okay." She took Samantha's hands into her own. "Tell me what you want Sam." Samantha looked down at Brooke's hands and up into her eyes. "Where do you want to go? Do you want to live with me? Because if you do I promise I will protect you and I will fight like hell to make sure no one ever hurts you again." Brooke's voice began to break again and Samantha nodded. "Okay." Again she wrapped her arms around Samantha and hugged her the way that she deserved to be hugged.

The way a mother should hug her daughter.

"Okay." She repeated again, Samantha needed her and Brooke was long over due to be there. This woman had taken advantage of her and Brooke had practically let her. Her ignorance of the situation was not an excuse and it would no longer prevent her from doing what she needed to do, what Samantha needed her to do.

And damn Rebecca.

Damn her for what she had done to Samantha, and may the heavens have mercy on Brooke for the hell that she will deliver to her.

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><p>AuthorsNote: End of that chapter, like I said, I like it I hope you do too. Please drop a review and let me know. Till next time ;)<p> 


	6. Touch Me, I'm Going To Scream

A/N: It has been such a long time and I am sitting smiling and so excited to finally give you another chapter. I genuinely love you guys and your responses to what I write. You satisfy a part of me that no one else can and I am extremely grateful for that.  
>If it turns out to be so many months before I post again please follow me on Twitter at KellyGreyer Say hey, tell me to post, do whatever I'd love to have you. So, here's another one, and it's dedicated to you.<p>

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><p>"Thanks Haley." Brooke turned and gave Haley a half smile as she exited the front seat of the vehicle. Haley smiled back but Brooke didn't see the gesture as she turned her head to see Samantha tenderly climbing out of the SUV. Brooke reached a hand over to the girl and Samantha instantly took it, squeezing Brooke's hand but never looking up to meet her eyes.<p>

"You let me know if you need anything." Haley surveyed the two with concern and Brooke simply nodded.

"I'll call you later." It was Haley's turn to nod silently. Brooke and Samantha turned hand-in-hand heading up to the front door of Brooke's house. Haley glanced over the shoulder of her seat and at Jack for only a second but then turned back to the front door of the house, once she made sure Brooke and Samantha had made it inside safely she pulled away.

Brooke closed the front door and Samantha walked to the kitchen counter. She looked around slowly as if she was remembering every memory that she had there. Maybe even comparing them to the more recent memories that still probed her brain.

"It's still the same." Samantha still had her back to Brooke as she talked.

"Your bedroom too." Brooke offered, slowly approaching her, almost like she didn't want to startle her.

"I'm surprised you haven't turned it into some small work area for your Clothes Over Bros sweat shop." Samantha turned with a half smile, that sarcastic tone in her voice, a tone Brooke missed hearing.

"No Sam, I told you that was your room. It never stopped being your room." Though Brooke was smiling the smile faded from Samantha's face and her gaze once again drifted to the floor. Brooke took another step forward before stopping. "Samantha…" Brooke started but Samantha cut her off.

"Don't." A tear slipped down her cheek.

"Samantha I am so sorry." Another step forward.

"It's not your fault."

"I have been thinking about you since you left and I never once thought to call you, to see how you were doing."

"I didn't deserve it!" Samantha had suddenly yelled, not bothering to wipe at the tears that ran down her cheeks. It was something that she was use to now. The strange occurrence would be if she had a day where she didn't feel warm salty tears trickling down her face, at this point she was sure that abnormality wouldn't happen.

"Samantha, you didn't deserve **_this_**." Brooke's voice didn't match Samantha's in volume as she reached out to touch the teen's shoulder. Samantha however flinched away from her, closing her eyes with pain on her face and Brooke, without hesitation, pulled away.

"It…it still hurts." Sam's voice was barely above a whisper but Brooke nodded in understanding. Though her words suggested that her reaction was only because of the pain that she was currently in, Brooke still thought that it was because of pain that she would always be in.

Afraid to be touched.

Forever flinching away from hands swinging towards her to greet her, or to hug her, or to love her.

Always with the anticipation of being hit, of being struck down, of being hurt by the people that filled her life.

Forever in pain because Brooke hadn't cared enough to just call.

To just call once and hear that her voice was breaking and that her heart was heavy and broken.

Because Brooke wasn't there to save her and take her and love her enough to make her realize that she didn't deserve the life that her birth mother was forcing on her.

No one deserved that but least of all not Samantha. And while at first glance Brooke hadn't thought much of the teenager, she quickly came to realize that Samantha's soul was one of the purest that she had ever encountered. This teenage girl's smile was precious and beautiful but long overdue. And for the life of her, Brooke couldn't realize why that was, or why this girl was so special. But it didn't take her long to realize that she simply was. Brooke accepted it and decided to look for the answers later, but she still let Samantha walk out of that door.

And that knowledge, that regret, it eats her up inside.

"Samantha you don't deserve this." Brooke said again, she needed her to know, for Sam to really understand.

"You know I…" Samantha turned and lowered herself onto the bed slowly and gingerly. Samantha's voice trailed off as she thought of what she wanted to say. She reached out and ran her hands over the red fabric as if it was the softest in the world, and at one point it had been to her, and it probably still is. "I…was angry…that….you hadn't gone with Julian. That we hadn't gone with him." Samantha's sentences were uncertain and she spoke just as she put single words together in her head. "I wanted a family, and I saw that there….with him… And I thought I understood and I thought I was…right. I'm sorry for being angry with you." Samantha finally looked up at Brooke.

"Samantha you don't have to be." Brooke shook her head as Samantha became more frantic. She wanted to grab her and hold Samantha until she fell asleep, but she didn't want to hurt her.

"But I do, and I have been so angry that I didn't understand, that I didn't see that I had a family. For the first time ever I had a family and I walked away. It wasn't your fault Brooke, it was my fault, it was always my fault! And I sit there," Samantha turns her head and watches a wall, feeling as though she is back in her other house and in the other room sat a waiting Rebecca. "And I know, I just know that it's my fault that I did this and this is my…"

"Stop it!" Brooke's voice is stern as she kneels in front of Samantha, catching her attention from her desperate catharsis. "Nothing is your fault Samantha, it's not I promise." Brooke is trying to stay strong, trying to be the rock that Samantha can lean on but her voice is cracking under the weight of the teenager's pain. "And none of that matters any more Sam. You are here. You are safe. And I will never _ever_ abandon you again."

"Brooke…" Samantha's voice comes out more as an exhaled breath of air than an actual word, an actual name. Brooke reaches to Samantha's face and uses her thumb to wipe at her tears. Samantha's eyes are heavy and Brooke notices it as she once again stands.

"Lay back." Brooke instructs her and Samantha obeys, too tired to do otherwise anyway. Her head rest atop of the soft pillows and she becomes aware of just how tired she actually is. How long had it been since she had actually slept, not passed out, but actually slept. Brooke took a seat on the edge of the bed and smiles through watery eyes. She grabbed the blanket at the foot of the bed and pulled it over the girl whose eyes had already begun to flutter close. Slowly Brooke leans down and places a kiss on Samantha's forehead, though her eyes are closed a tear escapes and runs down her cheek and lands on Samantha but Brooke wipes it away.

"I love you Sammy, and I'll be here when you wake up." For a second Samantha simply studies her. Wondering if this is real and if there was any merit in her words, not because she didn't trust Brooke but because she didn't trust herself. And maybe between her beatings and her babbling she had made this all up. Dreamt it all in order to create a corner of safety and sanity in her own mind when everything else was falling to pieces. Only after she had studied Brooke, the way she talked, the way she acted, and the subtly of her movement, was she convinced that maybe it was real.

And that maybe this would last.

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><p>Brooke was awaken with a start the next morning to a thunderous banging on her door. Climbing out of her own bed, that she hadn't even realized that she had gone back to last night, she headed to the front door grabbing her robe on the way out. She didn't think it was Nathan or Lucas or any other guy that she knew because they wouldn't have much reason to bang that hard on her door, but even still in her morning haze she didn't give much thought to it as she opened the door.<p>

"Brooke Davis?" The first of two male police officers asked with more force in his voice than was necessary.

"Yes?" Brooke answered confused as to why police officers were banging on her door at the this time of the morning let alone at all. "Can I help you officers?" Her first thought went to her store and her attack, it had to be but no, that was over...wasn't it?

"Are you housing a Samantha Walker within your home?" Brooke's posture straightened and she immediately became defensive.

"Are you going to arrest me?" There was a tinge of venom in Brooke's voice as she spoke.

"We're simply looking for the girl."

"Well then, seeing as how I don't know what you're talking about, I guess we're done here." Brooke went to slam the door shut but the officer put his boot in the door stopping her from closing it. "Unless you have a warrant to show me officer, I suggest you remove your foot from my home."

"And unless you do actually want to be arrested and charged with obstruction and custodial interference, I suggest you tell the girl to step outside _**now**_." His words were more of a demand than a suggestion.

"Brooke?" Brooke turned at the sound of her name being called from behind her and silently cursed at herself.

"Are you Samantha Walker?" The second officer asked.

"Yeah." Samantha offered as she slowly shuffled forward.

"I'm going to have to ask you to step outside Ms. Walker."

"Brooke what's going on?" There was fear in Samantha's voice.

"I am not letting you take her!" Brooke spoke through gritted teeth.

"Well fine then ma'am, you can come with her." The first officer, who was clearly not "good cop", grabbed Brooke by her wrist and pulled her out of the house. He turned her and forced her against a wall and began to put her in handcuffs as she screamed and struggled against him.

"I will have your badge for this you bastard!"

"Yeah you and every other prostitute in town." The officer leaned into Brooke's ear.

"Wait no, stop!" Both officers turned their attention to Samantha who practically ran out of the house. "Please I'll go, just let her go!" She pleaded.

"No Sam, no." Brooke looked over her shoulder in tears, she had just gotten her back, there was no way she was going to lose her now.

"Looks like today is your lucky day." The officer had only gotten one cuff on Brooke but he unlocked them and let her go as his partner was escorting Samantha back to their squad car.

"You can not take her back there!" Brooke now turned to the officer that stood stopping her from running after Samantha.

"Well unfortunately for you you're not my boss. Now save yourself anymore trouble and just go back inside."

"Please, just look at her!" The officer stopped in his tracks to join his partner at Brooke's words. Now that she brought his attention to it, he had noticed the bruises that littered the kid's face. After a minute of hesitation he tried to ward off this woman's pleas.

"If you want to file a complaint or something just go down to the station."

"If you care _anything_ about the welfare of that child you will _not_ take her home." The officer sighed and turned around, finally biting on Brooke's line.

"What are you saying?" He was hoping this wasn't just some bogus plea to distract him from doing his job.

"I have just been trying to protect her. I was her foster mom before she went to live with her birth mother and that heartless woman has been beating her for months." The officer was skeptical as he eyed Brooke, the desperateness in her voice and the tears in her eyes were starting to convince him however. "If you take her back there I am not sure that she'll survive another night." The officer gave another sigh and began to nod as he turned and walked towards his patrol car.

"We'll hold her at the station for as long as we can." He called back towards Brooke, twisting his body and pointing at her. "If you're serious you'll be there with a lawyer."


	7. Transfer

A/N: I…don't even have anything to say...

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><p>Brooke hadn't had time to get dressed. She watched Samantha intently as the police cruiser drove her away, holding her eyes for as long as she could. When she was out of sight though Brooke practically sprinted back into the house, throwing on the first pair of jeans she found, her jacket and shoes. Brooke sped to the police station, not caring if another cop were to pull her over for reckless driving, she figured she'd get down to the station one way or another, she just had to get there before they called her mother.<p>

Rebecca. Her name was Rebecca and she was a mother if only because she was competent enough to lie on her back and spread her legs as a teenager. The competence ended there and extended to no other aspect of life. Rebecca was not Samantha's mother; she was Samantha's tormentor. And Brooke would be her protector.

Sprinting into the station Brooke was immediately met by screaming that slowed her movement for only a second as she stared down the woman that yelled at her. Brooke had been imagining it, what it would be like when she first came in contact with the woman that Samantha left her for, the woman that took Samantha from her. Only 32 hours ago she thought she might smile at the woman, finding peace in the fact that someone else wanted to love Samantha. She imagined herself to be graceful. She thought she would push away the regret and the gnawing feeling in her gut that makes her sure now that she should have stopped Samantha from walking out her door. She thought she would be civil, and let the fact that Samantha was happy and being treated right outweigh any and all negative feelings.

But now Brooke knows the truth. And now all that she was trying to do was control this primal instinct to beat the ever living shit out of the woman yelling at her, stand on her chest with one heeled foot, and gauge her eyes out with the other.

"That's her!" Rebecca yelled. "That's the woman that came into my home and took my daughter. You arrest her, arrest this bitch right now!" Rebecca was being restrained by one of the cops that Brooke had encountered earlier; he was trying his best to get the woman to lower her voice. The other cop, the one that had practically assaulted Brooke approached her.

"Do you mind coming with me ma'am?" His voice was softer, and his eyes apologetic.

"I want to see her." Brooke demanded. On any other day she would've cared to think about the way she looked. In her rush out of the house she hadn't thought much about her appearance and didn't even care to apply the smallest amount of makeup to her face. Surely on a different day she would have at least glanced into the mirror to make sure she was acceptable. And she wasn't self-conscious at all, but with controversy surrounding her recently she could probably bet that a sleazy cameraman would be somewhere waiting to snap and undesirable picture of her. This fact didn't phase her though, the intense fury on her face served as a sort of makeup on its own.

"We're sorting that out, but for now I do need you to come with me." The officer placed a gentle hand on the back of Brooke's shoulder and she aggressively shrugged it off. The glare in her eyes told him that she hadn't been so quick to forget the twist of her wrist and the shoving into the wall that she had received earlier from him. He gives a short nod and extends his arm towards where he would like her to go and she begrudgingly complies. He directs her into a small room with a window that looks into the office but he drops the blinds after he closes the door.

"My name is Officer Griffin, I'm going to…try and help guide you through this today…for now." Brooke simply stares at him, taking a seat in one of the two chairs at the metal table sitting in the middle of the room. Officer Griffin takes the seat across from her. "Look I'm sorry about before, our information would have led us to believe that you were..." He takes a second to search for the words to use. "Not the lawful party of the situation."

"And that gives you the right to slam me around?" The two stare at each other, Brooke challenging the officer and he not having anything to respond with.

"Again, I apologize." Brook sighs loudly and sits up in the chair, his remorse was not a concern right now, she was not here for apologies of badges; she was here for Samantha.

"When do I get to speak to her?"

"Well I'll have to take a statement from you. And another officer will do the same with her mother. Child Services has already gotten involved, they'll probably speak with her and we'll use all information to assess whether your claims have warrant and if criminal charges should be filed against either of you."

"Why would charges be filed against me?" Brooke was confused, but holding in her outrage.

"She claims that you entered her house without permission and took her underage daughter." His voice trails off and he looks down at the notepad he pulled out. "I'm sure you don't want to know where her claims went from there." No, Brooke didn't want to know but she could guess what vile things were said.

"That woman is truly sick. And all you have to do is pull Samantha's shirt up to see who needs to have charges filed against them. I've never seen bruises like the ones that she had, I can't imagine what kind of monster would do that to a child." Brooke looks off to a distance, imaging exactly what kind of monster that woman would be. As if her human skin was merely a costume and when Samantha stood before her she would rip it off and take the form of a beast. The kind of beast that lurked in the shadows, the kind of beast that children pick up on and fear even when their parents had made no attempt to scare them into obedience with their tales.

"Well how about we start from the beginning?"

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><p>A minute or two goes by before she answers, her glance focused on nothing and she seemingly retreated into her head for a second.<p>

"The beginning." She whispers softly to herself, wondering if she could even give a beginning. Wondering if she even really knew when the beginning actually was, if it really had a definitive space in time or if it was all relative.

"Samantha?" The woman sitting across from her brought her attention back into the real world. Samantha turned her head sharply and just observed the woman. Linda, she thinks she was told to call her. But it's an insignificant identifier to Samantha. She had been asked to call many social workers many different things. They all come to her promising to help her, calling themselves her friends for maybe a week or two. Just enough time to place her into another foster home and move on to the next kid.

No not the next kid.

The next set of numbers.

The next case that they had to deal with.

Samantha often wondered about the people that held these positions. She wondered if at the end of the day they went into their homes and faced their families with a proud smile planted on their face. Smiling because they figured that they had made a difference in the life of a child today, that they had in someway bettered the society by saving a kid. She wondered if that was true, because if it was she knew plenty of kids, herself included, that could shatter that false sense of pride in five minutes or less.

Samantha knew these people. She was a product of their system, had been all her life, and at no point was she ever saved by any of them.

She was only transferred.

Transferred from one home to another, given from one bloodthirsty leech to another, only finding solace in the places that didn't care if she came home or not so that she could at least sleep the night with both eyes closed. A savior was not what she saw in them, but rather a prolongment to her sadness. A savior had come in the face of a teacher who cared if she had a decent place to stay, and a woman that had given that place and held her closer than most.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Well I only want you to tell me the truth Samantha." The woman… Lisa... she pried more.

"Where is Brooke? I want to talk to Brooke!"

"Did Brooke hurt you Samantha?" Samantha stood from her seat abruptly, her movement causing a shrill and harsh noise from the chair as it scraped over the floor.

"NO!" Samantha yelled. "No Brooke helped me! She took me back! She didn't do anything but try to help me!"

"It's alright Samantha." The woman reached out and placed a hand atop of Samantha's, trying to get her to calm from her sudden outburst. "I simply want to help try and get this all sorted out. I only care about you, and you can be honest with me." Samantha takes a second to think. She wasn't sure why she was protecting Rebecca, why she hadn't been quick to tell them of what the woman had done to her.

"I don't want…" Samantha hesitates again. "What happens to me?" She looks up into the social worker's eyes quickly as she sits down again. "If I can't stay with Rebecca, my mother, can I stay with Brooke?"

"It's not that simple Samantha, not quite. There will be proceedings…the police will be involved, a judge. You may be placed in protective custody, maybe with a temporary foster family. You know a little of how this works right?" Samantha puts her head in her hands.

"But she wants me…" Her voice cracked and her shoulders shook subtly, he hair falling over her face as she shook her head slowly against her arms resting on the table. Proceedings could last months; another family could mean another city. "She wants me and she's…she's right here." The social worker stood from her seat and walked over to Samantha. She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and Samantha could practically feel the cold grip through her shirt.

It meant nothing to her and it set her off. She raised her head from the table and yelled, so suddenly that her own heart had jumped.

"I can't go back there!" Her yell pierced through the pulled blinds and the closed door and pulled attention to the closed off room. Her cries growing in volume and intensity as she banged her hands against the table. There was not just her mother's home. There was the home of any other foster family that she could ever be placed with.

There was the state of mind that they all evoked from her. The desperateness that she felt. The pain pushing on her temples. The feeling of her heart contorting. The moment that you think about your heart breaking. There was everywhere that Brooke was not. And those places were places that she could not revisit. Not for a month. Not for a week. Not for a second.

For if she were forced to be there... dear God she didn't know what she would do to herself.


End file.
